


if your color's blue

by HalfFizzbin



Series: Presidents of Emotional Stupidity [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Politics, Bodyguard, Crack, Fluff, Get Together, M/M, OMG this election fried my brain, Stiles for President, Werewolf!Derek, kind of, werewolf equality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 04:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfFizzbin/pseuds/HalfFizzbin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's election day, and America is about to make a choice between the openly-bigoted Governor Argent and the liberal, werewolf-sympathizing Senator Stilinski.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if your color's blue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr, after [thewhoaman](http://thewhoaman.tumblr.com/) pitched me PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE STILES and BODYGUARD DEREK as a distraction from election stress. (It worked.)
> 
> EDIT: Now a [PODFIC](http://reena-jenkins.livejournal.com/115816.html) by the awesome Reena :D

_“I regret everything.”_ Stiles chews the straw in his Jack and Coke until it’s mangled beyond repair, and Derek hands him another one wordlessly. “Thanks. And yeah, I should have done it differently.”

Derek huffs. “Done what differently?”

“Anything. Everything. Oh god, what if they made a mistake about Ohio. What if California goes to Argent for some reason? _What the fuck is up with Florida?!_ ”

“Gerard Argent is a conniving intolerant bag of dicks,” Derek says, and Stiles’ laugh has a manic edge to it. “You’ve got this. Stiles. Look at me.” He takes the drink from Stiles and holds him by the shoulders, looking him square in the eye and imagining that he can help lower his pulse through sheer force of will. “You’ve _got this.”_

“You’re just a bodyguard, what do you know? Oh, no, god,” Stiles softens immediately, his eyes going huge and bright with guilt. “I’m sorry. Derek, I’m sorry. You’re not just. You know you’re not. I’m just so scared.”

“I know.” And Derek does know; he’s got more to lose in this election than anyone. Argent’s big hot-button issue has always been his stance on werewolf rights. If he wins, there’ll be a registry. There’ll be a reassessment of job discrimination, and marriage laws, and, _fuck_ , even restrictions on reproduction and child custody. Derek’s not ready to be seriously considering kids, but still—he’s not ready to give up on it, either. “Do you think I’ll still be able to land a job getting in the way of bullets, if Argent wins?”

“Don’t say that.” Stiles grabs at Derek's wrists desperately. “I’m going to win, and I’m going to legalize werewolves in the White House, and you’re going to be my Director of Speechwriting, just like I promised.”

“Well, who's going to get in front of bullets for you, then?” Derek says. Stiles will probably assume he’s joking about that.

He’s not.

“Fuck that. You’re too good for that. You’re smart, and you keep me on track, and you’re already my unofficial assistant anyway.”

“Hey!” yells Scott through a mouthful of potato chips. “Rude. Never forget that your _actual assistant_ was the one who convinced Oprah to agree to that dinner meeting with you that one time.”

“Not as long as I live, dude,” Stiles promises, and they high five over the back of the couch as Derek rolls his eyes. “Where the hell is Lydia, anyway?”

“She said she had separate VP business to attend to, and then dragged Whittemore out onto the balcony, so.” Derek feels his ears burn a little bit. “I’m keeping an ear out. Um. They’re fine.”

“Sometimes my jealousy of you just overwhelms my soul,” says Stiles, grinning impishly. His eyelids are droopy and his cheeks are a bit flushed from the stress and the alcoholic buzz, and Derek has spent a lot of time trying to keep their relationship professional over the years but he thinks he’s never felt a stronger urge to kiss someone in his entire damn life. 

Instead, he tightens his fingers on Stiles’ shoulders and says “You’re going to win this. Because this country can be pretty dumb, but not _that_ dumb, and you’re the right choice. You’re going to be so good for us, and I’m. I’m proud of you.” He sighs, a little raggedly. “Even if you weren’t, you know, in charge of my future. I’d feel that way.”

And then, amazingly, ridiculously, Stiles slides his hands up from Derek’s wrists, over his forearms and biceps and all the way up to the back of his neck, in front of everyone, palms a bit cold and clammy but _god does Derek ever not give a fuck._ “I don’t even care, for me,” he says. “Do you get that? I’m a wreck, I’m such a wreck right now and it’s 100 percent because I can’t stand what that fuckwad is going to do to you if he wins, okay? I can’t. And I’m saying it right now, and you can blame it on the stress or the adrenaline or the two and a half drinks I’ve had in the past hour because _fucking Ohio,_ but I’m going to win, because I have to, for you. And once I do I’m going to kiss the absolute shit out of you and you’re just going to have to take it because I will be your Commander in Chief, buddy, and human/werewolf sex won’t be illegal in any state anymore because I’m legalizing it nationally, and then we’ll deal with the marriage laws, and _oh my god just ignore me I’m sorry this is all Florida’s fault._ ”

“That should be your acceptance speech,” says Derek, dazed, and Stiles makes an impatient noise and pulls him in by the ears.

They’re still making out on the couch when the polls close in California and MSNBC finally calls the election for Stilinski/Martin. Scott leaves them to it, but not before snapping a picture on his phone to text to Laura.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] if your color's blue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/678051) by [HalfFizzbin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfFizzbin/pseuds/HalfFizzbin), [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins)




End file.
